


Shots Fired

by RiseUpWiseUpMindUp



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex has no chill whatsoever, Alexander needs to chill, Alternate Universe - College/University, Both boys be hiding something, F/F, F/M, Feisty Alexander, He shall not be tamed, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I adore angst, It's hella crazy guys, John is torn between liking that and worrying about grey hairs, M/M, Mulligan adores Disney, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Nonbinary Peggy, Of course this leads to more angst, Prompt Fic, Smol angry child, Smol fighting bean, That got out of hand, Too many references to count, Warnings of memes, sorry I'm not sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiseUpWiseUpMindUp/pseuds/RiseUpWiseUpMindUp
Summary: Prompt: It’s 3am, in the dead of winter, some motherfucker pulled/set off the fire alarm, and I am being very vocal about how I’m gonna make that fucker pay.And then I proceeded to take this prompt and run away with it. Read at your own risk and leisure. Oh, if you're not into Lams then avoid this and my precious children. Thank.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Edit! Whoops! I forgot to add that this will be a multi-chapter fic! Haha... Kind of jumped the gun on posting without reading everything. This is why I would be that person to be screwed over in contracts. *nervous chuckle*
> 
> Enjoy this. Warning or memes, references and the rage that is invoked in Alex from being called a smol bean or smol anything.
> 
> Warning for Alexander's language. That boy needs some soap in his mouth or mind or something.
> 
> Alex has big plans and big thoughts that are restricted to this institution. He doesn't let that stop him of course. ;)

**A happy camper:** _a comfortable, contented person; a person who is pleased and satisfied with where they are._

Alexander Hamilton chose to define this very common phrasing of being content to emphasize that this was _not_ him at this very moment.

Alexander, though he preferred Alex, was not a “happy camper,” nor was he even remotely impressed.

And satisfied? Ha! He’d say don’t make him laugh, but it was too late for that.

In fact, he wanted to go on a fucking murder spree to search for a certain someone who decided to pull the fire alarms installed in the dorm, getting his introduction paper completely soaked in the process. All he could distinguish from the smudging ink was his name and even _that_ was barely legible (disregarding the fact that his writing got constant complaints of being illegible in the first place. That wasn’t the point right now. And anyways it was perfectly readable to those who actually wanted to read it so. Enough said.)

His paper was ruined. It was ruined and soggy and is the corner with my opening statement ripping in half – _I swear to God._

Someone was going to die a very painful death. 

He carefully capped his pen and placed it in his jacket pocket – his soaked, heavy, water-dripping jacket that was already sending shivers throughout his body. He could already feel the threat of sniffles and a fever knocking on his door. If he got sick-

There would be bloodshed. There would be a massacre. Whoever pulled that damn blaring thing, no matter if it was a prank or not, deserved his wrath in the best and worst way Alex could manage. 

_They will rue the day they decided to mess with Alexander Hamilton,_ he thought, pushing in the chair and making his way to the exit along with fifty-something other grumbling, cursing, vengeance-seeking students to the outside 34 degree Fahrenheit weather. 

_Oh, they will burn. Hamilton confirmed with a vendetta rivaled only in history. I will slander their name to the point that even Hell won’t want any part of them._

_But then they’d be stuck here in purgatory, wouldn’t he?_ He thought again.

He pondered his response as he stayed closely huddled with the other students, pretty certain that they looked like a messy group of angry, squawking penguins ruffling their blanket feathers and narrowing their beady eyes at every person with a suspicion that wondered who was going to be the deserved victim of a mass slaughter. _Well, then I guess I have a problem. Can’t let them be stuck where their ink-ruining mayhem can be released on poor, starving, stress-crying college students._

God, that was quickly becoming his life, wasn’t it? The life of depending on financial aid, precariously balancing school assignments in four different classes (because you had to be a full-time student to get the aid in the first place – not that it was a problem for Alex. Who needs sleep amirite?) at least, and wondering if you had enough money left from textbooks – and, seriously, why couldn’t they be cheaper? – to afford the _rest of a life that has been stripped from him._

He was beginning to feel the migraines, tear-stains, and penny-pinching aspects of every past, present and future college student on a truly spiritual level right about now. 

It was a little overwhelming – a little challenging – and normally he would smile widely and approach the challenge with open arms and a welcoming hug, but tonight was not that night.

Tonight was a night of satisfaction.

And he was _not_ satisfied. He will _never_ be satisfied until the individual at fault was brought to justice.

It did not help the criminal in mind that today was not going at all how Alex planned it to go. No, in fact, you could even say that it was sub-par to all Alex had heard about this wonderful land of America or what have you. Land of the free. New opportunities. Greater successes. A chance to actually _be_ something for once considering where he came from and what that place sacrificed to make sure he didn’t remain there.

Alex believed in that so much; the fact America would give him a chance to do what he longed and was restricted to do back in Nevis.

It was quickly dashed aside the second he rushed into the registrar’s office, documents in hand as well as an envelope with the money his hometown raised for him, all in cash, for his education. He was a little out of sorts, a little excited, and a lot expectant of this college that was proceeding to praise itself for being “the best education America can offer.” 

The quote didn’t match the bored expression on the woman’s face in front of him, a transparent wall with a small circle opening at the bottom being the divider between his endless enthusiasm and her apparent dismay. She had wire-y grey hair pulled into a neat bun and glasses that she would push up every so often with a hum as she typed whatever it was on her desktop computer.

Alex glanced around the room, looking to see if there was a line, before walking up and pressing the bell on the counter. 

Slowly, she turned to glance at him. “Yes? May I help you?”

He smiled immediately but the reciprocation was lacking. “I hope so. My name is Alexander Hamilton. I understand I have some dues that need to be paid for my classes?” The woman held up a finger as soon as he finished this and he heard her call for a name. A “Burr” or some kind.

Walking off with low mutters of “It’s too early for this,” Alex peered through the wall anxiously awaiting whoever the woman called. He was mildly offended that she didn’t want to deal with him but he brushed it aside. Not everyone would like him. He reserved himself to that already.

Eventually, the man who _would_ deal with him came into view, and he turned out to be a little bit of a posh neutralist with an undertone of pride and everything that Alex didn’t like so words were said, money was exchanged, his position was secured in his newly founded education chorused in unison as hair-greying hell, and then went on his merry way to the dorm this Mr. Burr (sir) told him to go to.

And his roommate turned out to be a complete, utter prat. So much so that Alex had to leave the room after the first minute he guaranteed everyone to explain their existence. Because _Jefferson’s_ existence didn’t need to be explained. It needed to be terminated, destroyed, and thrown into an eternal pit of nothing and how on Earth was Alex going to deal with him when saying his damn name made him want to go kick the man in the shin.

Yeah, he was probably a little bit on the short side but that didn’t give Jefferson the option to mock him with placing his arm over his head and pat it and call him _“Hammy”_ like they were buddies and write “Beware: Smol angry child” in _Sharpie_ of all things above his bed with little hearts and a smiley face with a lot of curly hair to look like a certain someone. 

Alex was insulted. He was not a “Smol angry child,” thank you very much. He was an “fun-sized passionate revolutionist.” There was a difference, but Jefferson clearly didn’t recognize it or refused to.

Needless to say, Alex ran the second he could to demand a new roommate, but apparently all the other rooms were taken up so he was stuck with him for the semester until they reassigned rooms. Which basically summed up Alexander’s own personal expression of hell.

And now – NOW some stupid prankster, who decided it was fucking wise to pull a _fire alarm_ which sprays _water_ causing you to get _soaked_ and then _proceed to leave the obviously-not-burning-down building into freezing weather,_ had to throw sprinkles on that cupcake and present it to Alex with a wide, shit-eating grin.

It was going to be a long few years because, of course, he was a freshman so he didn’t have any degrees under his belt. He didn’t have certificates and hours to boast and help him. All he had was his name, the money saved up for him, the things his temporary foster parents gave him and an ambition to become something and not throw away the shot granted to him.

“This weather sucks,” he heard someone mutter next to him and peered over at the stranger – pumped up reverie all but forgotten. “Why the hell did we decide to come to a university that sees winter 9 months out of 12. Seriously.” 

The said stranger was hugging himself tightly, glaring skyward as if it was the weather’s fault they were out there. It wasn’t, obviously, but that still didn’t change the fact of how cute said stranger was. Speckled freckles dotting tanned skin and a tight ponytail barely holding together curly locks fighting for freedom. 

And _oh man,_ he was right in Alex’s ballpark.

To be honest, Alex never really believed in that whole “love at first sight” nonsense, because if that was the case things would have ended up a lot better for himself, but maybe the phrase will make a believer out of him after all. 

_Stranger danger_ Alex thought to himself as a smile fought to his lips. _Come on, Hamilton. Even someone like you knows stranger danger._

_Except,_ a part of him countered quickly. _If you always follow the stranger danger rule, then how are you to make friends?_

This was very true.

_You make a valid point,_ other point of view agreed. _Fine. Proceed to talk to cute stranger with the freckles._

Cute Stranger was currently rubbing his hands together and breathing on them, sniffling quietly as the security personnel scoped the area. 

“It’s really cold out here,” Alex decided to say at last and it definitely wasn’t his best ways to start conversation but it was effective by the way Cute Stranger seemed to side glare at him. He achieved his first goal: to gain the attention of the sudden eye of his affections.

“No shit, Sherlock. It’s like, what, 28 degrees out here?”

“34, technically, but who’s counting,” Alex shrugged. “It’s still cold enough for me to fall into a puddle and freeze for a century and then some.”

The pause was so pregnant that Alex thought maybe he had lost his chance entirely. 

“Maybe be thawed out and approached by a man with an eyepatch and some sass to his tone,” Cute Stranger replied eventually, shooting a sly glance.

_Oh, it was on._

“Wouldn’t that be weird? And stranger yet, he would definitely ask me to create some super team to defend humanity.”

Cute Stranger was fighting a smile. He was fighting a smile and he was going to _lose_ if Alex had his way with him. Alex himself couldn’t hold back a smile when the boy said, “That may or may not be called the Avengers.”

He was a Marvel fan. This was going to be great. Alex already liked him and didn’t hesitate in his response as he looked at the Cute Stranger with a look of exasperation. “But, of course. You can’t have a group of people avenge humanity and not be called the Avengers. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll go by the name Captain America.”

“What would that make me then?” Right on queue.

“Hmm…” Alex tapped his cheek thoughtfully, eying the Cute Stranger out of the corner of his eye and smirking. Turning towards the man, he looked the boy up and down, noticing how he was wearing a shirt with the quotes, _“Nah – Rosa Parks, 1955”_ , and worn converse that may have been red at one time. It was cute. Which was nothing new since he was Cute Stranger after all. “I don’t know. I think if you dyed that hair of yours red you’d make a striking Black Widow. Can you wear heels?”

“Baby girl,” Cute Stranger flipped his curly ponytail and placed a hand on his hip, one step away from a z-snap. “I was born for heels. Pumps. Stilettos. You got them, I’ll rock them. I’ve been wearing a pair my whole life for this moment.”

It was a lie. It had to be, but the way his face was completely straight was making Alex doubt. 

And the other part of him wondered what kind of heels he wore. Just out of curiosity of course. But, like, was he a red, stiletto kind of guy or one of those rubber Go-Go boot-hell things that squeak like nobody’s business? Alex had to know. It was very important for his inner profile of all things Cute Stranger. More important than the criminal who pulled the fire alarm.

Alex had a completely straight face as he said. “Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

The response was equally as straight and perfect as Cute Stranger leaned in casually to whisper into his ear. Alex thought he might be in love. “You bring the camera; I’ll pose the proof.” 

Alex stared at the boy for approximately 3 seconds before they both broke into fits of laughter. The student body around them turned at their noise and a couple sent accusatory glares while others just rolled their eyes and grumbled about it “being 3 in the morning and too damn early for this kind of gay shit,” which made Alex only giggle harder.

Wiping tears away from his eyes before they became ice, Alex leaned on the Cute Stranger as he caught his breath. “I fear I am not going to be able to get that image out of my head.”

Cute Stranger waggled his eye brows, the freckles moving across his face as he smiled. “Is that so much a bad thing?”

_No, no it wasn’t. But, personally, Alex had a lot of other things he’d like to have in his head than a pair of freckled cuteness in heels strutting in a more than likely sexy and seductive way and -- wait a damn second._

His thoughts came to a screeching halt so fast that if he was a car he might have flipped over.

Oh, God, this wasn’t good. 

_You can’t crush on a stranger, Alexander. Not even Cute Stranger. Cute Stranger with Cute Freckles that I just want to play connect-the-dots with and see what it makes a picture of and maybe it would be something ridiculous as a turtle and I need to stop staring at him because I’ve been staring too long and – oh my god stop staring at him!_

Leaning away from the Cute Stranger, Alex let out a sigh of relief and distaste as the security personnel came out and informed them all was safe except for their belongings that may have gotten soaked. Thank God (or not if there was a real fire) the sprinkling system was confined to the lounging rooms and not the dorms themselves. Granted he didn’t want to even look at Jefferson and his stupid “Smol child” remark. Why couldn’t _that_ have burned down somehow in the nonexistent fire?

He turned to say goodbye to the Cute Stranger – and maybe get a number because Alexander Hamilton was fucking _smooth_ like that – but Cute Stranger seemed to be intent on walking with him as he matched Alex’s stride. 

“My roommate’s boring,” he said as if that explained everything. It did.

“Oh, really? Mine’s a self-righteous, biggoting, tall, snarky, and ruthlessly obnoxious asshat. Want to trade?”

He meant it half serious and half joking but Cute Stranger shrugged. “Nah. Not interested unless…”

_Unless? Am I hearing this right?_

“Unless?” Alex prodded curiously. 

The freckled boy smiled a cheeky grin, and Alex felt like a goner. “Unless it’s my roommate for you.”

_Wait, what? Hold up. Back up. Reverse the fuck up, Hamilton and check your damn ears because there is no way in hell heaven is singing with a chorus of angels right about now._

He didn’t say anything as he simply stared at Cute Stranger and his adorable grin and-

_Don’t just stand there like an idiot. Question him. Question it. Question everything. Even Cute Stranger. Especially Cute Stranger._

“What.” 

_Very articulate, Alexander, let me tell you. Don’t try to make it sound like it’s the best decision in the history of decisions he could make. How on Earth have you survived so long?_

The question remained unanswered as his feet came to a halt and he turned to face Cute Stranger, who had stopped the second he did with amusement painted across his face.

Alex scrambled for his words as Cute Stranger proceeded to tilt his head to the side – which was beyond cute and not making talking any easier and Alexander was at least 95.6 percent certain that Cute Stranger knew this – and ignored the students that were wading around them with remarks like, “Some serious Rom-Com shit is going on” and “Guys. It’s 3am. Can you seriously _not_ ” and the last, and most said, “Hah, _gayyyyyy.”_

_Cute Stranger wants me as his roommate. This cutie with a universe sprinkled across his face wants me to be his roommate when he barely even talked to me longer than a half an hour tops. Is my luck turning? No, that can’t be. Nothing good ever happens to me. He has to be yanking my cord or something here. Even Cute Stranger can’t be that good and amazing._

_Come on, Hamilton, question it like you question everything._

Finally, after he processed what had been said to him, he pursed his lips and took a step forward, a little pleased when Cute Stranger didn’t take a step back. “Are you messing with me? Because let me tell you, man, I am not one to be messed with, and I’m hearing fucking _angels_ singing hymns above me with those words you uttered so you better be pretty damn serious or I’m going to murder you next after I go after fire-alarm idiot number one.”

“Fire alarm idiot number one?” Cute Stranger inquired with a smirk, and Alexander was ten seconds from stomping his feet angrily because that was _not_ what he wanted that freckled face to focus on, but he explained it quickly enough anyways.

“The asshole who decided to pull the fire alarm and alerted the sprinklers and basically ruined any hope of me making good first impressions tomorrow. The reason we were outside. He’s on my list. My hit list. I never had one till now that I was seriously about but I do now and he’s on it. Circled in red marker, signed with a blood pact, and exchanged with the devil. I’m going to ruin his life. Or them. I don’t fucking know but I’m assuming it’s a guy because this _is_ a male dorm and-“

“I get it I get it. Basically you’re cursing to eternal damnation a guy who made this deal possible?” Cute Stranger interrupted with another wave of freckles as he grinned, and Alex fought for words. He didn’t like this trend of speechlessness. He didn’t like it at _all._

“Well, yes. Because- Well- Shut up. It was horrible, and I will get back at him. He will rue the day he messed with me. Do you realize how horrifying it is finding 3 hours’ worth of writing bleed down a page?”

“Is it similar to the zombie apocalypse happened and you had a gun that shot out a “bang” flag instead of an actual bullet? Because if so, I totes get you, man.”

“Yes! Exactly! Then you understand why I curse his existence and must now ruin his life and sic my entire body weight in violence on his physical being.”

A thoughtful expression came to his face as he hummed to himself. “Ah, yes. But you’re such a smol bean. I don’t know if your words would be as threatening with how preciously smol you are, man. It’s like a tiny puppy yipping away when it’s a max of half a foot tall.”

Alex took another step, very acutely aware that he was inches away from Cute Stranger’s face. “Listen here, buddy chum pal. I’m not a smol bean or smol, angry child,” Cute Stranger stifled a laugh and Alex felt his face heating up. “I’m a fun-sized, passionate, ambitious, smart-as-fuck, and damn _amazing_ revolutionist, friend, and life changer.”

Nodding sagely, Cute Stranger smiled. “Are you going to write that as your obituary? Pretty sweet if so. Original. Loud. Makes a statement. Kudos to you. But while we are on the topic of small things, you want to know what else is fun-sized?”

Alex backed up, narrowing his eyes as the boy stuck his hands deeper in his jacket pockets that were suspiciously not soaked like his. Speaking of being miserably soaked, was he shaking? He felt jittery and his hands were in fists but they definitely were moving to some degree and _was that a candy bar in Cute Strangers hand-_

“What.”

Cute Stranger took one of Alex’s clenched hands and prodded the fingers open before dropping a fun-sized Snickers into his palms.

“Snicker bars, yo. Snicker bars are also fun-sized and listen here, my buddy chum pal,” He looked dead serious as he pointed at the Snickers and then Alex. “You are not you when you’re hungry. You’re a smol bean. Accept it. Cherish it. Learn to live with it and eat the damn Snickers before I take it back.”

Alex wasn’t sure if he liked that a commercial had just been quoted to him but the intensity of Cute Stranger’s serious stare as he waited for him to unwrap the candy bar was suddenly the funniest thing in the world and Alex found himself, for the second time that morning, breaking into fits of giggles. 

It broke the stranger, too, as he snickered under his breath.

“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” Alex said finally, unwrapping the Snickers bar and taking a bite of it, relishing the chocolatey goodness that made a sound crawl up his throat as he closed his eyes. 

_God_ he hadn’t had a candy bar in _forever._

Cute Stranger’s eyes were wide and his mouth had popped open, ears a tint redder than before when Alex opened his eyes again. 

“What? Is there chocolate on my face or something? Tell me now because no one should waste chocolate – especially on someone’s face.”

Freckled face cleared his throat. “Nah, you’re, uh, all good, man. Well, actually, I just got here today so I’ve just been waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Like a poor, soaked, and mildly vengeful college student who is ten seconds from kicking anyone’s ass if they call them smol one more time?”

“Exactly like a loud, fired-up, and mildly adorable college boy who looks like he would do, at most, ruin someone’s shins for life if pissed off.”

“Hey!”

Cute Stranger held out his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, just calling it as I see it. Don’t shoot the messenger who can’t be BS’d by a smol bean who still hasn’t told me a yes or no on my very generous offer. Tick tock, man. One-time deal. Right here, right now. Once I turn it’s as good as gone. And I’m very serious, smol bean. Very serious indeed. I’m the epitome of seriousness.”

“Are you now?” Alex said, stuffing the Snickers wrapper in his jacket pocket, holding his sides as he stared at the Cute Stranger that was borderline asshole and borderline irresistible in that _“Boy, you got me helpless”_ sort of way. The freckles were helping his case. And his smile and his words and just him in general but no need to go into specifics.

“Yessiree. You be doubting me, bro?”

“Bro? That’s a step up from man. Nice to know I’m already warming up the cockles of your heart.”

“Hey, gotta keep the names fresh until one sticks.” Cute Stranger winked before he continued. “Anyways, serious is my middle name-“

“That’s a sad middle name.”

“Ruining the moment, brochacho,” he chided before continuing. Alex’s lips twitched at the new term. “I am severe. I am solemn. If there was a Greek god for being serious, I would be that individual. Toga, golden wreath and all.”  
Alex rose a brow as he chuckled. “I’m honored to make your acquaintance then, mister…?”

Before Cute Stranger could reply, another voice broke through their conversation and Alex felt his mood shift just as fast as the voice came. It was instantaneous. Like when you are ready to write and the pen you have _just_ ran out of ink. A shift of unbridling hatred.

“When are you coming back angry, smol child? Look, I get it that you’re trying to get some or whatever, but can you do this tomorrow? I got to get my beauty rest for tomorrow and raccoon eyes are so not attractive in any shape, way or form. I don’t want people to think we room together.” 

Alex stiffened as he heard the southern drawl and his eye twitched. Cute Stranger widened his eyes in recognition as he turned to see Jefferson and his atrocity of a nest of curly hair before promptly narrowing his eyes.  
If the reaction wasn’t enough to send Alex into a spiraling crushing mess, what he said next definitely sealed the deal.

“I can see what you mean now. Asshat to the infinite degree.”

A snicker broke through Alex’s front and Jefferson must have accurately assumed it was about him because he began to frown and placed his hands on his hips, a funny sight when you take in his fancy satin pajamas which _so_ did not match his _“Who cares if you’re alone-y, just eat some macaroni”_ shirt and a sleeping mask on his forehead. 

Alex wished he remembered to bring his phone but it was still in the dorm room on the charger, having been dead from his overuse of Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr all in one. He was a busy guy. Debating with one over-sophisticated somebody, reblogging a few funny cat videos, finding a good quote to use later – or an insults because snarky comebacks were Alex’s jam.

You know what wasn’t his jam? Thomas-fucking-Jefferson.

“Alexander,” Jefferson whined and Alex cringed as he used his full first name. 

“I can do what I want when I want. You’re not my guardian.” But Jefferson didn’t seem to be leaving. If anything, it looked as if he was getting more comfortable. Groaning, Alex turned and settled a glare at the man. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Happy? Just please _leave._ ” Jefferson did just that, sauntering away with a slam from the dorm room. 

Shoulders slumping, Alex turned regrettably to Cute Stranger, who had taken on a pen from his pockets and was writing something on his wrist. When Alex peered over, he found it to be his name – shortened to Alex like he liked it. 

“If you need to write my name on your wrist to remember me, then I’m not doing a good job at making a good impression.”

Cute Stranger jumped before laughing and holding out the pen to Alex. “No. I was wondering if we could exchange numbers? We still need to make that deal, and it’s not going to be done tonight which is fine. Gotta make it official. Nice, cardstock paper with calligraphy and shit. Gotta have all the dorm sign it like the founding fathers on the Constitution.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Of course. It has to be accepted world-wide. Known by the whole nation. Given the stamp of approval from the ghost of the first president, _Christopher Jackson_ himself.”

“You get me, fam. A man after my heart let me tell you.” 

Shaking his head fondly, Alex wrote down his cell phone number on the freckled cutie’s (which, for your information, had more freckles. Alex wanted to know where else these freckles could be found. It was very, very important that he knew this) wrist before giving the pen back to him. 

“Well, I should go. It’s like, what, four in the morning? What did Jefferson do until now?”

“Clearly not sleeping,” Cute Stranger replied and Alex raised his hands in exasperation.

“Right?! I don’t know, man. I may commit suicide before the night is over.”

The words made him freeze temporarily as soon as he said them, but Cute Stranger didn’t notice thankfully.

“Well, if you do, come find me first. Room 148. We can go together. Pretty sure loans and debt don’t follow you into the afterlife. Should be a pretty easy-going life.”

Alex laughed as he walked away, sending a brief wave to the Cute Stranger. “Sounds like a plan.”

The second he got into his dorm room, he shut the door and leaned against it for a moment, taking in everything.

He just talked to a boy. A cute boy. A cute boy with freckles, sass, and the right amount of snark that made Alex want to kiss him senseless on the spot and punch him. It was wonderful. No, it was more than wonderful. It was fucking amazing. It was fantastic.

And terrifying. Mostly that. 

His phone buzzed from the nightstand next to his bed, the glaring doodle still there above it. 

It was a text from an unknown number.

_(4:23) Unknown number: Hey there buddy chum pal friend buddy pal chum bud friend fella bruther amigo pal buddy friend chummy chum chum pal I don’t mean to be rude my friend pal home slice bread slice dawg but I gotta warn ya if you don’t reply to this text right diddly darn now I’m going to be diddly darn down and wowza wouldn’t that be a crummy way to feel, huh? Do you want that? Do you wish upon yourself to come into emotional experience with a crummy juncture? Because friend buddy chum friend pally pal chum friend if you keep this up well gosh diddly darn I just might have to get not so friendly and happy with you my friendly friend friend pal friend buddy chum pally friend chum buddy…_

Alex was too busy laughing for a whole minute to respond.

As soon as the tears were wiped away, he immediately changed the contact to “Cute Stranger.” It didn’t look enough. It didn’t look nearly enough. Pursing his lips, he quickly added a kissy-face emoji, a heart, and a turtle (because why not). 

There. Perfect.

Now to reply.

_(4:26) Alex: What the actual fuck._  
_(4:27) Cute Stranger: I’m sorry it had to come to this._  
_(4:27) Alex: I literally just replied._  
_(4:28) Cute Stranger: It’s too late. Much too late. You have called this upon yourself. There is only one way to resolve this._  
_(4:29) Alex: Then I guess I have to know. Don’t want to lose my potential roommate when I haven’t even seen the goods of said roommate_  
_(4:29) Cute Stranger: That’s the spirit, Alex._  
_(4:31) Cute Stranger: Meet me tomorrow morning in the cafeteria at the Main Center. I’ll be waiting. Don’t forget the meal card. I hear it’s waffle day and no one misses waffle day, home slice._  
_(4:31) Alex: Will all be forgiven?_  
_(4:32) Cute Stranger: Depends._  
_(4:32) Cute Stranger: It’s going to be a test to check your bravery and shit. Are you willing to proceed?_  
_(4:33) Alex: Ready?_  
_(4:33) Alex: I was born ready. Throw whatever you want at me._  
_(4:34) Cute Stranger: Yooo. We got a bad ass in here._  
_(4:34) Cute Stranger: But seriously, bring the card. I hear the waffles are fucking heavenly._  
_(4:38) Cute Stranger: Anyways, I’m gonna crash. Roommate is sending me glares. Night, Alex._  
_(4:39) Cute Stranger: Oh, and sorry about the fire alarm. I was trying to cook something and ended up setting the alarms off as well. Whoopsie daisie._  
_(4:42) Cute Stranger: P.S; Locked my dorm room with a chair against it in case you get any rage ideas, smol bean._

Alex stared at the text as he associated his vendetta to Cute Stranger. The dry jacket. The dry jacket and-

“Holy fuck.”

He spent a second staring at the screen before typing a quick response.

_(4:45) Alex: You’re dead to me._

Turning off his phone, a part of him wanted to slam it on the end table but he decided to just drop it instead, making Jefferson jump from his overly-formal way of sleeping.

“So,” Jefferson drawled, turning on his side and raising a brow at Alex while smirking. “Wanna tell me about Mr. Freckles over there?”

“Shut up, Jefferson.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basic Gist:  
> Meets up with his pal buddy chum crush  
> Makes new pals  
> Cannot and refuses to fucking chill  
> Cannot contain his chill  
> Alex is a fucking mess w/references because I'm trash  
> More pals because Alex needs all of the friends he can get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could also be called the "ALEX HAS NO FUCKING CHILL" chapter because damn that child. I swear guys. He just has no chill in this fic and having the whole "you have a minute to explain yourself" doesn't help. He needs a chill pill. 
> 
> Sorry for the late-ish update tho. Got a new drawing tablet (a cintiq which is fucking grEAT) and I've been not sleeping, all drawing, no eating for the past few days. BUt!BUT!   
> I got this chapter for you guys yo.  
> All from printed receipt paper I'd write on between orders. Fucking hate being a cashier. Got caught writing and my managers thought I was on my phone. HA NOPE. But they have no problem with my writing so. Much good.
> 
> Enjoy. Angry smol child is a go.

Alex was glad that his history of eating (also see: non-existent) was as restrictive as it already was.

Seriously, was this the cafeteria? It looked more like some sit-com prison scene that is just waiting for Broadway to start – orange uniforms singing miraculously well and dancing in sync while you’re wondering where the fuck they found the time to actually train for this shit on a real-life basis.

...In Alex’s excuse, he had seen a lot of YouTube and not all of it funny cat videos.

The cafeteria/main room/whatever the hell this was, was actually a fairly decent size all things ignored. Plenty of tables and booths and they even had outlets which were a step up in his eyes.

“Yo! Alex!”

Alex jumped and almost dropped the plate of waffles he had in his hands as he heard the yell across the cafeteria’s mumble. Clearly, everybody else did too and promptly glared at a very weirdly hyper Cute Stranger, who was already sitting at a booth with two other people Alex hadn’t even met. Friends? Relationships? Tired, zombie-like college students just trying to find a place to sit? Whatever the case, Alex made his way over to the table, a glare set in stone at the Cute Stranger.

After all, he hadn’t forgotten the previous night. Specifically, the text that told him Cute Stranger was the criminal that Alex truly, honestly, genuinely wanted to send to a hell of some kind.

_What kind of hell would you send a Cute Stranger to?_

…Probably the same you’d send cute, adorable, YouTube-sensation puppies and kittens to.

Fuck. Was there a hell for that? Alex couldn’t think of anyone who would want to send a puppy to hell. Baby animals are like the bane of all things that fit under the #precious and #needstobeprotected tags (not that Alex would ever own one since he can barely take care of himself on his best of days, to be honest.)

As he approached the table, he caught glimpses of the other two strangers. He called them strangers, but it was obvious he wasn’t one to them. They definitely knew him to some extent. Enough at least to look him up and down, look at Cute Stranger, and give a thumbs up with matching cheeky grins that clearly Cute Stranger didn’t want since his face went red in an instant.

_And hell wasn’t that #precious on its own?_ He thought to himself, silently vowing to make this cute display happen more often if said freckled cutie survived his assault.

Alex automatically assumed the empty space next to Cute Stranger was for him and sat down, purposefully squeezing himself to the boy as quickly and as space-invading as possible. As his waffles rested briefly forgotten, Alex proceeded in whispering in Cute Stranger’s ear as his chin rested on his shoulder.

“Hey, there buddy chum pal. Maybe I read this wrong, you know how auto correct is, but I think I read that you’re the reason for my paper getting wet. Something about trying to cook?”

“Maybe it was a different person? A lot of people like to cook, you know. Poor college students and all. Burned a cup of ramen. Caught a bag of popcorn on fire. You know how it is. It is possible someone texted you accidentally…” Cute Stranger muttered, obviously finding it hard with how his face was pressed against the wall with how much Alex was in his face. The two across them were snickering under their breath, showing no intentions of helping their comrade. Fine with him.

“Ah, but there’s a problem there, home slice,” the one with the beanie snorted at that. “I haven’t given my number to anyone else. Not even Jefferson, though I’m sure you can understand that one. And, even if it was accidental, how would they miraculously guess my name out of literally billions. Answer that one, smart ass.”

“I think he has you, John… ah, how you say, in a bond.” The other stranger said with a heavily-sewn French accent, a smirk appearing as he rested his chin atop his hands.

“It’s ‘in a bind,’ Laf, but otherwise, yeah I agree with you there. ‘Fess up, man. You’re done for.”

Alex liked his friends. They knew when to stay out of a vengeance war path. Smart. And they were _actually_ helping him! So not only smart but wise. “You know what? I like you both.” He used his non-squished hand to wave at them cheerily. “Alexander Hamilton. Nice to meet you both and thanks for letting me enact my revenge.”

“Anytime, man.” The one in a beanie said as they both let out a wide grin while Cute Stranger John groaned next to him. “Though before I let you continue terrorizing my friend, I have to say that he is lying to you.”

“What.” Alex sent a narrowed look at the Cute Stranger next to him and saw the beginnings of an awkward grin grow on that freckled face. “You lied to me? After our whole bonding moment? How dare you?”

The curly haired man clicked his tongue while shaking his head at Cute John as if he couldn’t believe he could do that to Alex either. It almost made him laugh seeing it but he held his composure strong.

“He told you he cooked right? Wrong. While I can safely vouch he can’t cook worth a damn from the countless times he cooked mac n cheese into cement, he’s not bad enough to cause the smoke alarms to go off.”

“Then what really happened?” Alex asked, noticing the squirming next to him but not budging one bit. He can suffer for a little while longer.

“Well, you see,” And now the beanie man looked kind of nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Was that guilt? This was going to be interesting. “Laf and I were making bets. You know. The whole “I bet you won’t do this” kind of shit because we are immature children in grown adult bodies and…”

“We kind of said something along the lines of “I bet you won’t pull the fire alarm.”” Laf finished.

“We didn’t think he’d actually do it!” Beanie stated quickly. “It was freezing, you know? Being cold and wet don’t go well together. It’s like a toaster in a bath tub, but anyways he just looked at us and said “Challenge accepted” before pulling the alarm.”

“And the rest is history as they say,” Alex finished the story. So. Cute Stranger John didn’t cause the alarm to go off through a cooking incident but because of a bet. A silly bet that he could have just dropped and ignored or laughed off or something.

Alex could feel his eye twitch.

The previous night he was torn between punching the man and kissing him but currently, he was leaning towards the former.

“Alex, speak. You’re scaring me.”

Ah, yes. Poor squished John. Poor John who was currently having “immature child in a grown body” added onto Alex’s small profile of him. Poor John who looked terrified as Alex slowly turned his gaze onto him.

“Is this true?”

“No. Definitely not. Maybe. Yes. Yes, it’s true but that doesn’t matter.” It didn’t matter? Wait a god damn- “I’m supposed to keep you all to myself, Alex. How am I supposed to do that if you’re liking my friends, too? I don’t share. Number one thing you should know about me if we do become roommates.”

“Sharing is caring, yo,” the beanie one said again.

“Fuck sharing. I don’t remember you sharing the last fucking toaster strudel when I was in dire need of some strawberry pastry goodness. Where was the sharing in _that_ , huh?”

“They were mine in the first place and this happened months ago-“

“There are _two_ in the package, Herc. Two. You could have spared you’re hungry, humble,” Alex snorted at this. “servant one toaster strudel. If you truly loved me, you would have done that, man. I’m hurt. So hurt. I see how very little our amazing companionship means to you.”

Herc rolled his eyes. So this wasn’t new to them. Good to know. Alex mentally added “drama queen” to the portfolio about Cute Stranger John along with “likes toaster strudel – strawberry” and “not care bear qualified.”

Laf (Alex really needed to get full names so he could not feel weird saying their friend-level nicknames so easily) tilted his head in thought, before saying, “Actually, I think he gave me the other strudel. He ended up not wanting it and who was I to say no?”

Cute Stranger John looked like the world had betrayed his entire existence. Betrayed him and kicked him when he was down. Alex knew that look very well but not from the same circumstance and pushed away the thoughts before they took him out to sea. “I hate the both of you. We are no longer friends. I am disowning you as my friends. Shit, I’ll make it fucking _official_ and unfriend you on Facebook and unfollow you on Twitter.”

“I didn’t know you followed me on Twitter.”

“ _Oui_ , me neither.”

He squirmed next to Alex. “Well, I do, okay? _Friend support_ which you guys _lack_. I deserved that toaster strudel and, because you refused to share with your compassionate, fragile friend, you are going to deal with the consequences. Say _hasta la vista_ to your bro.”

Herc shrugged, sipping on the orange juice in front of him. “I mean, that leaves the movie decision to us this Friday, doesn’t it Laf?” Laf nodded. “You don’t have any problems with watching _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ , do you?”

“You always want to watch that one,” John complained but Laf shrugged, clearly indicating that he had as little care for watching it again as did Herc. “Do you realize it’s creepy as all hell? Like, ‘I have some candy, come to my van’ creepy. _Especially_ with that Hell Fire song-“

“Like fire,” Laf murmured and Cute Stranger John fixed him with a glare.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Hell fire,” Herc said a little louder, voice rumbling.

“I swear to God, guys-“

Herc clenched his heart. “This fire in my skin.”

Laf leaned against Herc, throwing the back of his hand against his forehead. “This burning…”

Then the both of them looked directly at Cute Stranger John to Alex and back. There were knowing smirks on their faces as they finished their song, “Desire, is turning me to sin.”

Cute Stranger John seemed to have resigned at this point. “Why are you both like this. Just saying that this display is definitely not my fault.”

Alex was on all levels of confused right now, forgetting his vendetta for the moment.

What they said sounded like lyrics. How they sang it and all definitely made it sound like it should be lyrics but he hadn’t seen many movies except for whatever his brief foster parents had and the movies their children wanted to watch – which Alex was more prone to going to his room and writing rather than participating.

Herc was the first to catch on and stopped their makeshift theatre production, “Yo, Alex. You want to say the next lines? I know it seems that Laf and I take all of the attention, but you’re practically one of us now that you have Johnny boy wrapped around your finger.”

“Hey!” Cute Stranger John squawked but Herc rose a brow and he proceeded to go all #precious with his flustered skin. “He does not have me wrapped around his finger.”

“Uh huh. Sure. Keep telling yourself that. What were you saying earlier?”

“Oh, guys. I met this boy last night. Like hella cute on a level of puppy level, ya hear me?” Laf added and John seemed to be getting redder the second they continued.

Herc added quickly after that. “He’s a smol bean but holy hell does that-“ Cute Stranger quickly launched forward, thrusting a hand over his friend’s mouth to stop anything else. Alex was torn between amusement and curiosity – what was Herc about to say? Clearly, it was about him but what about?

He’ll have to ask later on.

Removing the hand, the man chuckled and motioned at Alex. “Anyways, go on. Say the next lines.”

Alex just stared at him, blinking slowly in confusion. He was not going to say he didn’t know the movie. He wouldn’t say it. For some reason, saying that seemed like it would be a crime so he waited until a dawn of absolute horror placed itself on Herc’s face. Horror to heartbroken to suspicion and back to horror. It was like watching the pages of a book being turned with literal emotions plastered on it.

“No,” was all he whispered.

“No? No what?” Cute Stranger John tried to peer back at Alex but with his face still squished up against the wall now that he fell back into his seat, it was near impossible. Feeling a small bit of mercy, Alex let up and scooted away, already missing John’s warmth.

“Alex doesn’t know _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_.” Herc looked at John and Laf like his childhood dreams had just been crushed.

“Maybe it’s for the better? That guy – Frollo or whatever – is fucking creepy. Don’t want to give the smol bean nightmares.”

Herc sent a glare before fixing on Alex again. “Well, what Disney movies have you seen? Tell me you’ve at least seen Cinderella. That one’s a fucking classic, man.”

Alex shook his head slowly. “Disney?”

If it was possible for one man to die on the spot from shock, Herc would have achieved it perfectly. Of course, he wasn’t the only one. Laf looked like he was going to faint. Even Cute Stranger John whipped his head around too fast to not have whiplash just to stare at Alex.

Alex just wanted to crawl under the table and not come out.

“Wait wait wait. Wait one god damn minute. Alex.” Alex looked up to John, mouth open to take a bite of the waffle that really was being neglected by him at this point. “Let me get this straight. You’ve never heard of Disney, but apparently, you have seen enough Marvel movies to have our little rendezvous last night?”

Taking the bite, Alex thought out his answer as he swallowed. “Well, Marvel isn’t necessarily Disney, isn’t it? I’ve never seen the logo or anything.”

“Dude,” Herc stated as he watched Alex with this look that could only be explained as “ _God help this poor, naive child_.” It was a little unnerving so he stuck to his new best friend, college-level waffles of the gods, as he listened to Herc. “Disney bought out Marvel like… what, 8 years ago? It’s been a thing for years.”

Alex shrugged. He hadn’t exactly been in the states until just a year ago. Nevis didn’t exactly have cable and movies everywhere, even less so the news of other countries. Especially after the hurricane.

A shiver ran up his spine. Of course, there was no way he was telling them that. He didn’t want to be treated as a pitiful charity case. He wanted to be equal and thought of as such despite the burden he carries on his shoulder.

For once, he remained silent. Well, not exactly silent per say, but his true words were masked in something sweeter, bitter memories falling to the back of his mind once again. Later.

“I just don’t pay attention to that kind of news I guess.” If anyone noticed how he continued staring at those waffles, now unappetizing, they didn’t comment on it.

Instead, Cute Stranger John clapped his hands together, fixing a serious stare at his two friends. “Guys. I am befriending you again. We have a mission, ya ready to hear it?” The two of them nodded their heads. “Movie night this Friday night. We are doing a Disney marathon this weekend and edu-fucking-cating the living _hell_ out of Alex here. Even,” and he sighed at Herc’s pleading stare. “ _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_.” Herc did a fist pump in the air while Cute Stranger John fixed his stare on Alex.

“You in?”

Alex couldn’t help the grin that plastered itself on his face, more than grateful for John’s accidental save. “In? I’m so in you won’t be able to get me out at this point.”

“Is this a case of, how you say, that’s what he said?” Laf spoke immediately, seemingly excited to be using the phrase. Herc gave him a high five. Alex just rolled his eyes at the two of them, already getting used to their apparent love for teasing.

“Hell yes. Except just say the last part next time. Makes more of an effect.”

John checked his phone and cursed. “Fuck. Okay, I have to leave. I have US History in about five minutes.”

“I wish you luck, man.” Herc shook his head. “I’ve heard Mr. Seabury can be a real stick in the mud sometimes. More like all the time actually. Nobody has ever liked his class, but he’s the only prof who’s teaching US History this semester it seems.”

“Wait. You have Mr. Seabury?” Alex piped up, excitement trailing in his veins as John nodded. “Me too. Good to already have a person I know, my friend pal chum.”

“Hell yes, home slice. We will make it through this hell-”

“One step at a time-”

“And somehow fucking _pass_ that class!”

They both cheered while Laf and Herc seemed to exchange a look.

“You both _just_ met yesterday, right?” Herc asked after a minute and Alex nodded. “Just making sure because how the two of you just finished each other’s sentences just now made it look like you guys have been friends for _years_. Like damn. Talk about some mental connection.”

“What can I say? Great minds think alike,” Alex replied with a bright grin and John beamed at him, throwing his arm over Alex’s shoulder, effectively tugging him to his side.

“Exactamundo, my friend. Couldn’t have said it any better.”

“ _Mon Dieu_. You two are painful to watch be this dorky and adorable. Go to your classes already before this whole cafeteria gets… what are they? Cafes? Caviar? Cav-”

“Cavities. I got you. What they mean to say is that you both need to get out of here and be all chummy and precious somewhere else. Go. Shoo. Don’t you both have a class in like… 3 minutes now? I know Seabury doesn’t take late attendance.”

“Yeah… Wait! Actually,” Alex stopped as he and John clamored out of the booth. “I never got your names? I know you’re Herc,” he pointed at the beanie guy. “And you’re Laf. But I don’t know your full names.”

“Hercules Mulligan,” Hercules jutted a thumb at his chest as he puffed it out.

“And I’m Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette. I advice you remember all of that, _mon ami_.”

Alex was in the process of getting past his first part of the name having Marie when Hercules elbowed Marie-Joseph… whatever. “They are messing with you, man. Does it to every person they meet. You can just call them Lafayette.”

It took him a second to realize that Hercules used _they_ when referring to Lafayette. Huh. Non-binary? Genderfluid? Another question he’d have to ask next time he saw them.

Lafayette looked put out as his (“their” Alex mentally corrected himself) namesake was dwindled down to the thankfully three-syllable version, but Alex couldn’t be any happier. He had managed to find friends, or he hoped they were friends. He had never had any before.

It was more like he never had time for any. He never had enough time. Every second, minute, hour were dedicated to something bigger than him at present. Writing away his life and story and existence like it was the paper to be placed on a pedestal in judgement hall. He couldn’t think of any friends from Nevis and no one wanted to associate with him much when he arrived.

It was okay. Alex didn’t mind.

At least that was what he was content with until he looked at the trio he just met today. For a moment he wondered if that was okay. Having no friends. Staying cooped up in his own worded hurricane like he was running out of time constantly.

It didn’t seem like it.

But now he had them. He promised silently in his head to make them proud of him someday. To make this choice not regrettable.

And a Hamilton never goes back on his promise.

Alex just looked at Cute Stranger John, who was beaming at him like he was the best thing in the world, and just smiled because what the hell? He may not have been fine before but he could work on that.  
\------------------------------------------------------------

Mulligan wasn’t lying when mentioned that brief description of Mr. Seabury. If it wasn’t for the fact that Alex already harbored enmity for the macaroni-obsessed idiot, Jefferson, he might have had this man take the top spot.

Because being a “stick in the mud” wasn’t quite the description Alex would give this man who preached that America should have stayed with Britain despite the fact he was teaching a US History class which a majority stemmed off their separation.

To use a term from the country he adored, he was a twat, to put it lightly. A tall man who claimed to know more than they could ever hope to achieve. It was infuriating. Dignity-flaring. Pride-pumping. Adrenaline-spiking. Absolutely anger-triggering tyranny the way the man treated them. Like they were a bunch of poorly-educated, moronic orphans without a dollar to their name, an ounce of fame-

Wait. Maybe Alex was projecting.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that he treated them like he should be thought of as their educational savior from this oppressed life. Like they should feel grateful and honored for them to be bestowed his blessed knowledge.

Thanks but no thanks.

Alex didn’t need a savior, and if he ever did it wouldn’t be this poor excuse of a professor.

“Dude. I can just feel the hatred for him emanating from you.” Alex had been so focused on this pompous prick that he forgot Cute Stranger John (A hard thing to believe, I know) sitting right next to him. “I get it. He’s a dick. A massive one at that, but chill on the anger, man. I fear this room might burn down and I’m not quite ready to die yet. Too young for that.”

Alex motioned at the spectacle in front of them. “Do you NOT see this…? This… this joke of a man?! It’s unbelievable. I did not come to this school or this country for god’s sake, to be educated like this!”

The room was silent and it took Alex a second too long to realize that:

1\. He was standing, a finger pointing directly at Mr. Seabury.  
2\. He had basically shouted that to the entire room.

Well.

He did want to make a name for himself, just not necessarily this way.

Too late to back on it now. _Own it, Hamilton. Making it known that nothing you do is a mistake but entirely planned._

Mr. Seabury cleared his throat awkwardly before offering Alex a strained smile that all but yelled “You just started but I can tell you will be a pain in my ass.” John was hiding his face in his hands, muttering a wide, colorful range of curse words like they were a prayer to help them. It was cute and actually admirable.

“ _Colorful vocabulary_ ” was added to Alex’s profile of his Cute Stranger.

“Is there anything you would like to suggest, Mr…?”

“Hamilton, and yes, as a matter of fact.” Alex straightened his back and smirked at the professor.

“For fuck's sake, Alexander-“ Cute Stranger John stated but Alex was on a roll.

“I fail to see why I should have to listen to you drone on about something when I could probably learn the entire history of this great nation on my own accord in a matter of a few days, _and_ ,” Alex paused and smiled cheekily at the silently fuming professor. “Teach this class better than you ever could.”

There was a hushed chorus of “oh shit” that rang out amongst most of the students as they stared back and forth between the professor and him.

“Because, you see,” He walked behind John and down the steps that led to where Mr. Seabury looked as if he might spontaneously combust. “Your voice is boring, your presentation screams aristocrat and why would I want someone like that to teach me about democracy and freedom – which was, if I’m correct, only possible from setting us away from your type. Now, I may be a little immigrant nobody who is only useful to you by the money I put into your pocket, but I’m also a very _loud_ man, as I’m sure has been made clear.”

He was nearing the bottom of the steps. Everyone’s eyes were on him. There was bated breath. Why he felt the need to make a statement now of all times he didn’t know – would never know – but this school wasn’t very impressing right now. It was up to him to make it more than it was leaving him to believe.

At the front was Aaron Burr. He was looking at Alex like he couldn’t believe what was happening in front of his very eyes. Or more like he could believe it but prayed it not to be the case. The neutral case realizing the scales were off-balance.

Locking eyes, he mouthed, “ _Leave him be_ ” but Alex swiftly looked away and ignored the warning as he hopped the last few steps. _Sorry, Burr, but I’d rather be divisive in my actions than indecisive._

“Also, if you’re so keen on teaching this class our country’s lovely history, I don’t see why you need to start it off saying that you believe absolutely that we have made a mistake in leaving Britain when it has lead us to where we are today. And I get it! Everyone is entitled to their opinions. You don’t need to tell me that twice.” Alex was standing in front of the professor now, a bit annoyed by the height the man had on him but feeling taller by the statements he made.

“But it is almost as if your opinion is clouding the judgment you plan to teach this class with. If this is how the entire semester is going to go, I fail to see why I, or anyone for the matter, should remain.”

There was soft chatter going on now, most of the student body seemingly agreeing with his statement. Alex smirked and winked at Cute Stranger John, whose face was now out of his hands and absolutely _beaming_ and if that didn’t make Alex’s world, he didn’t know what would.

Mr. Seabury was red in the face, the color standing contrast to his ginger hair as he sputtered, “You-! You-!” Then he took a deep breath and turned to the students with a charming smile that settled disgust in Alex’s stomach. “Students, heed not his opinions that scream your mutiny, he has not your interests at heart.”

A scowl found itself on his face as Alex watched this mess of a man try and salvage himself. “Excuse me-“ But Seabury was already continuing, thoroughly ignoring Alex’s attempts to interrupt. “Dropping my class is not the solution. Don’t let him lead you astray.”

If anyone should be afraid, it was those who kept a Hamilton from talking. Those were the true death seekers.

“Hey!”

But Seabury continued on, only stopping to look directly at Alex when he uttered, “For shame, for shame…”

“Yo!” And Seabury stopped at the loud outburst, a look of shock on his face as Alex stomped up and grabbed the nearest chair, standing on it. “He’d have you all sit blindly and listen to his screams of how he’s an excellent teacher, but this is only detrimental-“

“The student body has always loved me-“

Alex stared sadly at Seabury. “It’s hard to listen to you with a straight face.” To this the students snickered and he felt the encouragement fuel his argument because if there was anything he was good at, it was this. Arguing. Debating. Or being a general loudmouth with a backbone foolishly made of titanium.

“Dropping his class is the only solution unless you all wish to stay students forever. Which,” Alex paused to stare at each student with a raised brow. “I don’t think you want to be. You all just left one school for another, and you’re all content with staying here in this class because of a teacher who clearly doesn’t know how to stay opinionated and open at the same time.”

The students were growing in volume and Seabury sent a scathing look to Alex. If looks could burn, he knew he would have been turned to ash at this point and swept aside like nothing.

“I hope the dean shows you his mercy, Mr. Hamilton-“

“Oh, I have no doubt he will once he hears my argument. I warned you, Mr. Seabury. I will not be tamed and put silent by your pompous remarks that go against everything this school goes against. You should be teaching us, not placing your ideals onto us like a bunch of followers you wish to adopt.”

Mr. Seabury had no answer to that and with clenched fists, shouted, “Class dismissed” before stalking out of the room.

The class let out a sigh of happiness so loud it was beautiful. As they passed Alex there were a lot of “Good job, man” and “Way to tear him a new one!” which only made it all the better what he did. He kept an eye out for the one face he did desire and it didn’t take long to find. Those curls were hard to ignore as they bounded straight to Alex.

“That was amazing!” John said immediately as he spotted Alex, eyes sparkling and freckles moving in waves around his cheeks. It was gorgeous and Alex had to remind himself that he literally met him a day ago (though it felt like he had known him for centuries strangely enough. Like they had written essays against slavery and fought side by side against a uniformed enemy).

Nevertheless, there was still the unmistakable swell of pride at the praise he just received, especially from one of his newly-made friends.

“I just didn’t like his style of teaching,” Alex shrugged and watched John’s mouth pop open in exasperation. By then all the students had already ushered out with the hidden relief and exploding cheers of those being freed from their nickel of servitude. The same pleasure of being freed from a life sentence that Alex couldn’t help but relate to.

Grabbing John’s hand, he pulled the boy out before they could get accused of anything else, easily falling into step as they headed to the cafeteria. Alex didn’t have another class that day until 3:00 so he had some time to kill. Usually, this would bore him to tears but with this cutie next to him, he could probably be kept entertained for as long as conversation flowed.

Still, this awkward silence was not as endearing.

Poking John in the shoulder, Alex laughed as the boy blinked as if coming out of a stupor. It was adorable. “John, are you alright?” Alex asked curiously as he noticed the freckled mess next to him finally acknowledge that yes this was a college and yes he was being talked to. It was like he was a computer slowly booting up or his program had ceased responding.

He laughed at that. _CuteStrangerJohn.exe has ceased responding._

It was amusing to no end. The curiosity could also not be quelled to the same never-ending possibility.

John shook his head, curls bounding around as he chuckled in disbelief. “You didn’t like his teaching method – you only just had the man today! How…? Why…?”

“I gave him one minute to explain himself. Actually, no, I gave him almost the whole lecture period in fact.” He paused to let that sit into that cute little head of his. “So I was being generous. Also, I wasn’t going to take that class if he was the professor and financial aid is a bitch when you drop a class this late.”

“Do you have a Twitter?” Cute John asked abruptly. It was so out of the blue that Alex almost had to scramble for words again, thrown for a loop in the change.

“Yes. Why?”

There was a gorgeous sound ringing in his ears that was easily dubbed and idolized as “John’s laughter.” It was beautiful. Amazing. Enchanting. Simply too precious for this world.

You know what wasn’t? Alex’s reaction. Heat crawled up his neck and a dorky smile made itself known and he just knew it was easy to see it was from a lovestruck infatuation he had simply no control over. He was basically the cover image of “Hopeless Romantic Magazine” if that was a thing. Complete with heart eyes and a dreamy sigh.

He was so caught up in cursing his emotions that he almost missed what John said.

“I can just imagine what you’re Twitter wars are. A smol bean in the real world and an absolute argumentative menace with a hatred for the character limit-“

“It’s _completely_ unfair!”

“Don’t interrupt when I’m talking smol bean,” John smirked as Alex glared at him, finishing his statement with ease. “ _And a hatred_ for anyone who goes against his own morals.”

“I’m not that awful-“ and he was about to spout a large pile of nonsense when he heard someone clear their throat behind them.

“Are you the guy that just trash-talked Professor Seabury?”

Alex turned around, hand letting go of John’s (why was he holding it to begin with?). In front of him were a trio of women (because he had a feeling if he called them girls he might get his ass handed to him sideways tbfh) who were all staring at him with a mixture of emotions. In some other universe, he might have been flattered, but there was something in the one who spoke that made him automatically stand a little taller, raise his chin a little higher and square his shoulders as he owned up his achievement.

“Yes, I am the one who stood up to the tyranny of Professor Seabury’s annoying and quite frankly detrimental opinions in the hope of protecting our influential minds. Why do you ask?” John snickered next to him and Alex swore that he heard one of them say “He’s so cute, Lizzie. Like a smol corgi. Can we keep him?” which was swiftly declined with a chuckle. Overall there was a lot of amusement going on and Alex didn’t see where it was coming from.

“You really do like embellishing your actions, don’t you?” The head honcho spoke.

Alex smiled cheekily. “No, I just like correcting others of the half-truths they say.”

“Still admitting that they are half-true, bro,” John laughed quietly under his breath. “And you do love making your actions like a feat in the revolution for America’s freedom rather than a simple and hilarious spat with the professor. I’m pretty damn sure he left with his tail between his legs. Hercules is going to be a proud mama bear.”

Alex stared at him in confusion before deciding to ask about it later. There was probably a story. There were always stories. He just wished he had been apart of them but beggars can’t be choosers. He was happy with what he got as it was.

So, instead, he decided to make a statement. Because that was what Hamiltons do. Make statements. Cause changes. Make shit happen.

“You know, I’m feeling rather attacked right now when I just came from a really good time.” Because clearly, that was the best life-changing sentence his stupid mind could think of. God, did his IQ fall to sub-levels since his little moment with Seabury? “I mean, yeah that’s cool. Pick on the small guy who just did something epic and amazing. Yeah, that totally makes sense, doesn’t it?”

They all looked at him in a moment of shock before John chuckled. “Did you mean to say ‘smol’, smol bean?”

Alex glared at him. “I will end you in your sleep, John.”

“Can’t do that if you can’t get into my dorm, Alex. If you remember, we still haven’t sealed the deal.” And then he winked. He winked and it shouldn’t be making Alex’s heart do those weird acrobatic flipping things that it was. “Got to get all the founding fathers to sign it.”

“ _What_ are you two talking about?” This time it was the one in the back. The one who asked to keep Alex.

“Oh, you know, Alex here has an asshole roommate and I have one that spends his time berating my loud and naturally appealing personality, so we agreed to switch roommates for the sake of our sanity.” John shrugged. “But we have to make it official.”

“You two are such dorks.” The same woman replied but she was smiling.

Alex shrugged. “I’ll own up to that. At least it means I know something.”

The woman in the front, the head honcho as Alex dubbed her earlier, looked him up and down before holding out her hand. “Angelica Schuyler.”

Alex shook it, immediately noticing the strong grip she had. She was testing him. Alex always appreciated a challenge and sent back as much force before releasing her hold. “A pleasure to meet you.” He peered behind Angelica to the other two. “And you?”

“Eliza Schuyler,” The only one of the women to have not spoken said. There was a certain charm to her voice, something small and sweet and things that dandelions and cups of tea should be made of and yet Alex could sense the undertone that more than expressed what she was capable of. Like a rose. A flower with a bite to it. Huh.

“Hey!” Alex blinked and looked over at the other one who seemed flustered as she rolled her eyes. “Don’t forget about me. Name’s Peggy. Peggy Schuyler.”

Alex reeled back. “Wait. Schuyler. Are you all sisters?”

“Siblings,” Angelica corrected and before Alex could ask a whole new set of questions, Eliza spoke up, walking up to stand beside her sister rather than behind as she was before. “Peggy is nonbinary.”

“Ohhhhh,” Alex murmured eloquently before nodding. It was like Lafayette. He wondered if they possibly knew each other. “Gotcha. But still, you are all related?”

“Adopted,” they spoke in unison before Eliza spoke up again. She was like a plot hole filler. She knew how to fill the questions Alex had before he even asked them. “Well, technically Angelica and Peggy are adopted. I’m the only one who is born to the Schuyler name I guess, but to me, we are all granted that so.” She shrugged and smiled again.

It was cute. She was cute and if it wasn’t for the fact that Alex was working on him not courting Cute Stranger John right on this spot, he might have fallen for her.

College was quickly becoming like a teen fanfiction.

_Fuck my life._

“What?”

Alex blinked up confused as John watched him with amused eyes. “You said fuck my life. Why?”

“Uh. No reason. Hey, where are you all heading?” He looked at the sisters - siblings, Alexander, you uncultured swine. “John and I are heading to the cafeteria if you all would care to join us? Who knows, maybe we can get you all into the potential lists of signatures we need for our official roommate switching document.” Alex found a chuckle fighting up his throat as he rolled his eyes and added. “I mean, male supremacy is so last century. Feminism is where it’s at, right?”

Angelica looked at him with a raised brow before relaxing and smiling. “You know what? I may just take you on that offer. I think we are going to get along just fine…?”

“Alexander Hamilton. And yes, yes I believe so as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes I did the thing.  
> The nonbinary thing  
> The thing that has been used but I love so yas it's a thing here to.  
> Also Schuyler sisters are great and I need Peggy in my life. She is me. I relate to her on a spiritual level.   
> New title should be: How many memes and stupid references can I put it before it becomes too much?
> 
> I'll try to post soon! :') Rise up! G.Wash coming up soon-ish!

**Author's Note:**

> Fun notes? I talk exactly like... both Laurens and Hamilton actually. I just wanted to share the humor of my speaking style. Hope it was an amusing first chapter? It won't be all fun and games but...
> 
> Welp.


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